This wasn’t always the case. Until recently it would be commonplace to find me sat outside in the garden reading a book, writing an overdue blog entry (a bit like this one) or eating an evening meal alfresco-styley (albeit in all likelihood a microwave curry or a Rustlers chicken burger, but hey, it’s still a meal) like they do in them there foreign countries. So what happened? Why do I no longer spend my time out in the fresh air amongst my sunflowers and spring onions?

I gave up smoking.

Regardless of whether it was a warm July evening or a rain-sodden cold January afternoon, if the craving for a Lucky Strike suddenly hit me I
would don my smoking jacket (usually the nearest coat that came to hand) and step outside for a good puff. Whilst I was out there inhaling all sorts of nasties I would tend to the garden, read a newspaper or just sit down and relax – I may have been filling my lungs with toxic death but at least I was outside. But once I’d stopped smoking I no longer felt the need to venture outside the back door, save for the aforementioned gardening duties and the weekly chore of taking out the wheelie bin. It seemed as if my back garden was strictly out of bounds.

In order to rectify this I decided to give may garden a makeover. As someone, who on occasion, has been falsely accused of looking a little bit like TV makeover expert Gok Wan, I took this passing resemblance as qualification for me to transform my garden into a space unburdened by the memories of nicotine abuse, a space that I could once again use to display bohemian tendencies and enjoy a microwave burger in the sunshine.

If you are expecting the tale of this garden makeover to be one fraught with all the excitement of a typical TV makeover show then forget it! All I have done is reposition the cold frame, move a few pots around and purchased some new garden furniture.

Gone are the cheap plastic table and chairs that were in a perpetual state of uncleanliness, gone is the cold frame that brushed against the washing as it hung out to dry on the washing line, gone are the wind chimes that were a great idea in theory but ultimately fucking annoying. In their place are a set of comfortable chairs and a parasol – in effect I have performed garden Feng Shui. Look:

This blog is produced with the assistance of Czech lagers and outdated laptop computers

Now that my garden has been transformed it is a given that we will suffer one of the coldest, wettest summers since records began. I don’t
care, come rain or shine I will be out there taking in the fresh air and watching my garden grow.

On paper this did not look good. Luckily the reality was very different.

Had we decided to fly to Amsterdam we would’ve probably spent most of our time loafing around the city centre partaking in various tourist-based activities. Our road trip meant that we got to experience so much more of Holland than we would have had we just taken a city break. Thanks to the decision to drive, it meant that we got to discover the beautiful towns of Edam and Volendam, it meant that we got to use the wonderful public transport system, it meant that we got to visit the wonderful beach of Bergan aan Zee and lunch in small town restaurants that serve wonderful food at small town prices, it meant that we got lost in an industrial complex in Utrecht whilst looking for breakfast. Had we been trapped in the convenience of Amsterdam itself I am certain we would not have done any of these things.

I will go back to Holland again and when I do, I will drive!

Of course, mention to anybody that you are going to Amsterdam and it will not take long before the words “coffee shops” and “red-light district” enter into the conversation. Yes, we did do one of these activities, but of which one we took advantage of I am not going to tell. Instead, feel free to take a look at some of the rather bland photos that I took over our not-so-bland break in Holland.

Nice jumper! Nice hardware! Stupid price.

The verdict? It is a giant iPhone. In fact it is a giant iPhone that weighs the same as a hardback book that cannot be used on  flat surfaces, with a screen so shiny that once you’ve got over the shock of seeing the faces you pull whilst web browsing, you’ll be too scared to touch the screen for fear of leaving incriminating fingerprints that could be used to trace your sordid web-browsing history.

Nope, the iPad is not for me, in fact Charlie Brooker’s launch day article sums up my feelings towards it in a manner that my slowly degrading GCSE grade C English will never be able to articulate. Despite my comparative lack of words we come to the same conclusion – you will want to own an iPad, but only when it becomes lighter and cheaper.

Wilbur

A few months ago I asked you to suggest a name for my new plant. Expecting a torrent of potential names to be submitted from my intelligent and creative readership, I delayed the update of the website in anticipation of the overwhelming response.

Nearly two suggestions were submitted. For the sake of argument, lets call it one suggestion.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that the name of my new plant is: Wilbur! Thanks to Stu for the one and only suggestion, his Pythonesque logic proving that he had put a bit of thought into it rather than just spout out a few random names.

Stu wrote:

How about “Wilbur”

I Quote:

Clerk: Are all your plants called Wilbur?

Praline: There’s nothing so odd about that. Kemel Attaturk had an entire menagerie called Abdul.

Clerk: No he didn’t.

Praline: Did!

Clerk: Didn’t!

Praline: Did, did, did, did, did and did!

Clerk: Oh all right.

The banana is shown for scale

The latest addition to my never-expanding indoor jungle is this Diffenbachia (Diffenbachia maculata)/Dumb Cane/Mother-in-law plant. It’s called a Dumb Cane because the sap is toxic – it can cause temporary speechlessness when touched to the tongue. It is especially dangerous to cats, which is only a good thing.

Anyway, the plant needs a name. I’ve already got a Peace Lily called ‘Wilbur’ so it’s only fair that the Diffenbachia gets a suitable name too. I’ve asked a few friends and had some rather good suggestions (Geoffrey, Marigold and Stumpy are the current favourites). Can you think of a suitable name for this lovely, yet poisonous plant?

Put your ideas in the comments section below.

This Dalek appears with its ‘election special’ counterparts  in this week’s edition of the Radio Times. There has been no official confirmation that this new ’2010 Dalek’ is the genuine article but already the Internet is hailing this new design as the worst thing to happen in the world, ever! We’ll just have to wait until the broadcast of this week’s episode, Victory of The Daleks, to find out if the world does actually come to an end or not.

Unlike the rest of the Internet, I quite like the new-look Dalek.

I needn’t have waited. The series opener was fantastic!

In this fifth (or thirty-first to be precise) series Matt Smith is the eleventh Doctor, Karen Gillan is the companion, the TARDIS has been redecorated, the theme tune has been updated and the show has a new head writer/producer in the form of Steven Moffat. That’s all you need to know, that and the fact that it is bloody brilliant!

Matt Smith’s doctor looks too young for the role, looks too weird, acts and dresses as an old physics teacher (one that can run and jump around), pulls silly faces, is clumsy, doesn’t like apples and is possibly channelling Patrick Troughton. Everything that the Doctor (who is an alien after all) should be.

Karen Gillan’s companion, Amy Pond, is Scottish, a kiss-o-gram, sassy, sexy and possibly as mad as a sackful of snakes – everything a Doctor’s companion should be.

The TARDIS has regenerated into a time-spanning amalgamation of useful junk and bric-brac, like a high-tech antique shop powered by a nuclear reactor with see-through floors. Everything a… you get it by now.

So everything has changed. Or has it? It’s still modern Who yet somehow more like a fairytale, possibly due to the bright colours of the show’s appearance on BBC HD. In recent interviews head writer Steven Moffat admits that Doctor Who IS made for children and is nothing but a fairytale. He adds that although a fairytale sounds weak and insipid, fairytales are actually scary, dark and terrifying, and everybody loves those. As someone who grew-up watching Tom Baker’s Doctor I can agree with this, but I’ll admit that in my young childish mind I was more scared of Baker’s face looming out of the time vortex in the title sequence than I was of the Daleks!

Speaking of title sequences, I seem to be the only person on the Internet who likes the new version of the theme music.

Doctor Who is back, and better than ever!

Look, here’s the proof:

You have no idea how difficult it is to take a photo in a supermarket without looking as if you are up to no good

A few aisles over from where the above photograph was taken, I stumbled upon these jars of wonderment:

In my basket are two jars of a new undiscovered flavour of Marmite – Marmite XO; a Marmite made from a much stronger recipe. Wow! It’s a yeast-overload! Vegemite, Marmite Cereal Bars and Marmite XO all sold in the same store!

I can report that Marmite XO is very nice! It isn’t amazingly super-strong when compared to the standard recipe but it does have a certain zing to it. At £3.99 per jar I’m not exactly consuming it like a yeast-obsessed loony, but it is making my breakfast-time toast a pleasant wake-up call.

Note to ASDA – if I do not see any new Marmite products on your shelves by the end of the week, I may have to go elsewhere for my weekly shop!

Please stock Marmite Cereal bars.

My nearest Waitrose is in Marlborough and I can no longer justify the 26 mile round trip just to stock up on Marmitey goodness.

Yours Sincerley,

Nige.

or…

Dear Waitrose,

Please open a branch of your store in Wootton Bassett…